Understanding
by tivaforever13
Summary: Tony and Ziva reach an unspoken understanding when Tony shoots Rivkin. They manage to keep the understanding in Israel, but can they hold onto it while Ziva is captive in Somalia?
1. Rivkin's Betrayal

**Chapter 1**

**Rivkin's Betrayal**

Tony went to Ziva's apartment to check on her and Rivkin was there. They have a fight and this is how it unfolds as the fight ends.

Characters: Tony and Ziva

_Tony's POV_

Bang.

The shot rang out through the apartment just as the door slammed open. My heart was pounding fast in my chest proving that I was still alive and he was dead, proving that somehow, I had won a small war against Mossad. His words ran through my head again in that moment.

_"If she chooses to stay, she chooses to die," he had said as he clung tightly to my neck, choking all air out of me._

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and my body went limp from the effort I had exerted in the struggle. I was crashing from the adrenaline rush I had just experienced. My head was pounding. My heart was racing. And I still had to face Ziva.

"Tony?" her voice called, sounding concerned as her eyes scanned the scene, trying to determine what happened. "Michael?"

She went to his body. Her hands on his chest. I hadn't checked him yet. I groaned. Physical pain was not my friend. I had only gone in to check on her. Her fingers brushed over his neck, where a pulse should be. I turned my head. There was a piece of me that just didn't want to know how she might react to this. Revenge would be her first and only thought, and I would be her target. That was a frightening idea.

"What happened?" she whispered, sounding in shock.

I coughed. The air seemed heavy and hard to take in. I groaned again. He attacked me. Was she going to believe me? Probably not.

"Fight," I whispered and coughed again.

Her eyes narrowed as she first heard the words, but then concern laced her face. She came over to me and kneeled on the floor. Her delicate fingers ghosted gently and carefully over my neck where Rivkin's hands had squeezed. I saw a tear in her eye before she composed herself and stood up.

"You shot him," she accused. "He is dead and you are alive. How is that possible?"

That was a good damn good question. How in the world did it work out that I was alive and a trained Mossad assassin was dead? I shrugged against the floor and let out a heavy sigh. Next thing I knew, her arm was extended to me in a polite gesture, offering to help me up. I took her hand, probably as confused as she was.

Ziva pulled me to my feet, and I held the gun out for her to take from me, handle first. She held up one finger and grabbed a bag and a glove, understanding the gesture. She took the gun and bagged it, without saying a word. She sealed the bag and collected the shell casing in the same manner, before returning to me. She slowly raised her eyes to meet mine. She was showing me her sadness and pain.

"You risked your job, your life. You always do, why?" she asked, her voice so quiet, scared and vulnerable that she sounded as though she might break.

"For you," I replied simply, finding it painful to talk again.

"You need to be checked," she whispered.

I shook my head at her. I didn't want to go to the hospital. I just wanted to change the pain in her eyes, the look of betrayal and confusion that lingered in her eyes, despite the care she was taking at that moment.

"What did he say, Tony? What did he say to you?" she asked me, searching for answers about the fight and why it had compelled me to pull a gun out and use it against him.

"If you choose to stay, you choose to die," I said.

Her eyes went wide with fear before her expression fell. Her hands went to my chest, as tears filled her eyes. It was a look of betrayal. Michael had betrayed her. Her head fell to my chest, too, as the tears began silently falling from her eyes. Slowly, cautiously, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close and letting her emotions catch up with everything that she was learning. My heart hurt for her.

"Ducky will check you out," she whispered into my chest, and then pushed herself off of me, tears still in her eyes and a new fear there. "We need to tell Gibbs. For the record, I am angry with you."

But, she didn't sound or look angry. I put my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. I didn't want her angry with me, but angry was better than hate. I sighed and pulled her back to my chest. She wrapped her arms around me and held on tight. She was wrong. She wasn't angry with me, she was afraid for me.

"You could have died," she said, wiping her eyes again. "Come on, we need to go."

It was not a minute too soon that we left the apartment, either. As soon as we were out the front door of the building, the window of her apartment was blown out in a fantastic explosion. Her eyes found mine, the fear still present and the truth of Michael's repeated words settling into her fully.

"Thank you," she whispered to me and pulled out her phone to call Gibbs to the scene.

As soon as the others arrived, there was chaos and confusion. Ziva and I were both side-lined, sitting on the back of the NCIS van. Her head rested on my shoulder while nobody was around to watch. She was shaking with her emotions. My arm was around her rubbing her opposite shoulder.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, she lifted her head and brushed her hair out of her face, looking at me, intending to share her thoughts. I hadn't asked for her thoughts. I had known that I really didn't want to hear them.

"He was too smart, Tony," she said quietly. "Michael was. Now I have to go back to Israel. My father... he will find a way of keeping me there. He will threaten me, or the team. Tony, I do not want to go. I do not want to stay there. But, I cannot risk him hurting any of you. I have to deal with this in whatever way he throws at me."

It was the truth and she was as afraid of saying it as I was of hearing it. I didn't know what to say, but managed to come up with something. "We're always going to be here, Ziva. This is your home now, too. Whenever you can get back to us, we'll still be here, ready to fight for you and beside you."

And her head rested on my shoulder again. She was choosing to trust my words and the physical comfort I could offer her was there. Her acceptance of that comfort showed me that things were different than they were this morning. She trusted me, because I saved her. But neither of us were going to say it.


	2. Eli David

**Chapter 2**

**Eli David**

Part of the team is in Israel on Vance's orders. Tony, Gibbs, Ziva, and Vance took a flight to Tel Aviv and brought the body of Rivkin with them to bring him home.

Characters: Tony, Ziva, and Eli David

_Ziva's POV_

The investigation of the explosion at my apartment and Tony shooting an officer of Mossad landed me right where I thought it would. I was now in Tel Aviv, Israel, again. This was the last place I wanted to be. Abby proved it, though, just before I spoke with my father about all that was going on.

It appeared that Rivkin had planted the bomb for my apartment to blow up. He really was trying to kill me, and perhaps Tony, also. I had a good idea of why, since accusations had flown around Mossad before about me and Tony and we appeared more than partners or friends to many. I was sure of the guesses that I had, but I had no evidence to support them, and therefore kept them to myself for now. I had to confront my father after all this.

I stood now, outside his door, with Tony looking at me from down the hall. Instead of opening my father's door, I walked down the hall to him and looked up at him carefully. What could I say to this man? He had saved my life by sticking his nose in my business, where it did not belong, and "thank you" just didn't seem quite sufficient.

"Whatever happens after I talk to my father, Tony, just remember this," I whispered, wishing not to be overheard by anyone in Mossad. "I believe what you've told me and I trust you to always have my back, no matter what. Whatever I say or do after this conversation needs to be said or done for your safety. I promise, that no matter what, I am doing it for you, just as you have done for me."

"Ziva, I... thank you," Tony said to me, the look in his eyes revealing far more than what he was saying.

My heart hurt as I turned around to go face my father and whatever he had to say about all of this. I wanted Tony to say what he was really thinking, rather than what he said, but I knew I wasn't going to get that confession out of him so easily. But, I also wanted to respond to those unspoken words and did not think I could right then or that I even knew how. So, I gave him a small nod of my head before turning away. I was pretty sure he got the message and pretty sure he understood what I meant and that I knew what he meant. I went into my father's office then, to face whatever consequences were coming for me out of all of this. After all, I was probably the source of Rivkin's anger and my father's as well.

"Ziva," my father said, putting aside his paperwork and standing up to greet me.

I really had no idea what to say to him. He came over to me and kissed each of my cheeks and then pulled back to really look at me. He took a moment to consider me carefully before speaking again.

"When did you start wearing so much make-up?" he asked, inappropriately.

"Nice to see you, too," I said, brushing off the remark, which was clearly intended to hurt me instead of flatter me; in his typical fashion.

"With traffic, I was next expecting you for another hour," he said, trying to break the tension he put in the room.

I was not angry with Tony at all, I realized. I was quite angry, however, with my father, because I already guessed that this was somehow all his fault. I was angry at him for having Rivkin stay with me and I was angry at him for trying to bring me back over the last year.

"I drove," I said simply.

"Enough said," my father said quietly and then insisted: "Sit."

I moved toward the couch, but did not sit down. He looked at me with disappointment, but this was a conversation I did not feel sitting down for was beneficial. This was not a casual conversation we were about to have. I felt like I was about to disobey my father in some terrible way by having this conversation; or disappoint him, anyway.

"Sit," he insisted again as he leaned on his desk; when I did not move, he continued on. "So, tell me, how are you?"

"I have been better," I admitted honestly.

That was the truth. I was not sad about Michael's death. I was hurt that Michael nearly killed Tony and that he was apparently trying to blow me up. I was hurt that my father thought that was what it took to bring me back to Israel. I was terrified of what he might try to get me roped back into it; and I knew he was going to try something.

"Michael was a good man. Loyal," my father remarked with a nod of his head.

"Loyal to whom?" I asked angrily now that my father brought it up.

"To all of us."

"I am not certain that is true," I said, showing my father the doubt that I had been holding inside for a long time.

"You are angry," my father noticed and remarked on.

"I am confused," I corrected him with a lie, trying to hide that my anger was at my father and not at whoever killed Michael.

"That is why I asked you here," my father replied.

"To find answers."

"No, my dear," my father said. "To find solace. You leave finding the answers to me."

"I do not need solace," I said to him, shaking my head. "Here is what I know: I know that I believe Special Agent DiNozzo. I know that I trust him. I know that Tony is not a cold-blooded killer who was in a jealous rage. Agent DiNozzo told me that Rivkin threatened my life if I did not choose to return to Israel. And then, my apartment was blown up in a way that Mossad usually uses to hide an oncoming explosion."

With that said, I walked out of his office, holding back my tears that were stinging sharply in my eyes; these were the angry tears that I was good at fighting off. It seemed to me that Tony was right all along. I did need protecting, because I had a habit of trusting the wrong people. But, then I thought, sometimes I trusted the right people. Gibbs, Tony, McGee, Abby, and Ducky were all proof of that. I knew I could trust them, because they trusted solid evidence. But, could I actually trust my father?

I found my way to the observation room that could see Tony's "interrogation". I wanted very much to see what my father was going to put Tony through. Gibbs and Vance were there watching too. Tony was putting up a good fight and I was definitely feeling that I was on his side of things. But, I could show no emotions in front of Gibbs or Vance because they assumed that I was angry with Tony for shooting Rivkin in my apartment.

It turned out, later, that Hadar was the one who set the gas-pipe open so that it exploded. I was betrayed at least twice now and I wished there was someone left in this world that I could trust aside from the team at NCIS. I went to Tony then, to have someone to talk to. I needed to talk to him.

"Here to interrogate me?" Tony asked angrily.

"No," I said quietly and calmly, knowing that he was angry because he was stuck here and the others were all walking around free. "Here to apologize for not listening sooner. You were right, Tony. Rivkin was betraying me all along. My father was betraying me all along. And there were others that were betraying me also. You had my back this entire time. I did not think I needed it, but I guess I was wrong. And now, I need to have your back, Tony. I need to make sure my father does not do anything unpleasant to you. I will agree to whatever terms he offers. It will require me to stay and you to leave. I am so sorry, Tony."

"If he betrayed you once, he will do it again," Tony warned me, wishing that anything else was a possibility right then. "But this isn't the first time he's betrayed you, is it?"

"You are right, Tony. Eli will do it again," I agreed without directly answering his question. "But, the unspoken rule, as Gibbs calls it, will have to be used here. You do what you have to for family. NCIS is my family, Tony, and I will protect them. That includes you. I will do what I have to do to get you out of this mess. I am fighting for you, everyday."

"Then, I will be fighting for you, until we see each other again," Tony said to me.

I placed my hand gently on his shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and sighed. I patted his shoulder once without saying anything and then left. I said what needed to be said and now, or hopefully soon, Gibbs would be able to see through that video feed that I trusted Tony, although I had a feeling that I might have to tell Gibbs something different before this was all over with. At least he would have proof of my lie.


	3. Trust

**Chapter 3**

**Trust**

Ziva makes a decision on how to handle Tony's situation with her father as her father forces her hand into the decision.

Characters: Tony, Ziva, Gibbs, and Eli David

_Ziva's POV_

I stormed into my father's office. I had to get this all cleared up and now. I was beyond just angry by this time.

"You told Michael to stay with me in DC. Why?" I asked him as I entered his office without knocking and without announcing my presence.

"That is none of your concern," my father said, crossing his arms and being just as stubborn as ever, also using the clearly commanding tone that told me he was speaking as the Director of Mossad and not as my father.

"I have made it my concern," I shouted back at him, feeling hurt by the fact that he couldn't ever just see me as his daughter and nothing else.

"Do not question me, Ziva," my father said casually, but still using that commanding tone that I had grown to hate over the years.

"Was any of it real?" I asked him, still questioning him and thinking that I already knew the answer to that.

"Does it matter? Michael is gone. You must move on," my father replied, avoiding the question that I gave him.

"This is no longer about him," I informed my father, narrowing my eyes at him. This was about my father, and this was about Tony, and this was about things my father wished for me to do. This was about the feeling of betrayal that lingered in my stomach from all Mossad links.

"Agent DiNozzo," my father concluded on his own, deducing that there was some deeper feeling there than whatever I had showed him up to that moment.

"I need to know if he was right," I told my father, already knowing that he was right and trying to see how far my father would go to cover himself with me, to keep my trust and my loyalty.

"He was jealous," my father insisted, avoiding the question again and giving me proof of my answer.

"Even if that were true, that does not make him wrong! Now, answer me! Was it real?" I yelled angrily at him.

"I do not know, perhaps," my father said in a resigned tone and I could tell that he really didn't know if it was real or not.

"Why was I not told the details of his mission? Why was I excluded?" I now asked, wondering if there was some good reason for leaving me out of something that seemed very important; important enough to tell Rivkin to stay with me instead of somewhere else.

"Because, Ziva, I do not know who you answer to anymore, NCIS or Mossad!" he shouted angrily to me, clearly feeling a little betrayed and confused himself.

"What is it you expect from me?" I asked him angrily. I knew the answer to that and wasn't going to give it to him, no matter what. He couldn't have my heart or my loyalty anymore, because I had found people that were worthy of my trust and my love.

"I expect your loyalty to me! And only me! You want to know Michael's assignment? Make this your Aliyah! Your return to me! To us! You finish what Michael started! And then I will leave your DiNozzo alone!" my father shouted angrily, showing what he really wanted in what he said before he corrected himself.

"Was he right?" I asked more calmly, knowing that was the only way I was going to get an answer out of him anymore.

"Yes," my father shouted, now angrier than ever. "Yes, he was right, Ziva. You have gotten too close to him! Too soft! Too emotional! Come back to me and he goes unharmed!"

"You have no right," I said through grinding teeth and narrowed eyes, using a low and angered tone. "You have no right to harm someone who protects your daughter at the possible expense of their life. You have no right to barter for his freedom. You have no right to make me fight for his freedom the way he fought to save my life! You have no right to call yourself my father!"

"You make your choice, Ziva," my father informed me sharply. "I am your Director and I say to stay here and protect Agent DiNozzo and the rest of those at NCIS or watch him die like the others did who you got too close to, Ziva! They have made you soft and Mossad is not soft!"

I slammed my way through his office door once more. I had no choice in this. Unfortunately, Tony was standing right there and may have heard the whole exchange. I took his wrist quickly and moved him into the next office over, before letting any tears fall and before thinking of a way to discuss this with him. He closed the door behind us and held me to his chest, knowing that the tears were coming any moment. He had obviously heard enough to know that I was upset or should be upset.

"I will fight for you," he whispered as quietly as he could into my ear as he rubbed my back and comforted my hurt.

"I cannot ask you to fight my father and all of Mossad for me, Tony. I only ask you to forgive me and keep an eye out for whatever he was up to in DC. I will be doing the fighting. This is not fair!" I sobbed.

His arms squeezed tighter around me and pulled me closer to him. He knew I wasn't done talking yet, so he stayed silent as I gathered the rest of my thoughts to tell him whatever I needed to tell him. I appreciated his silence in this moment. He really did know me better than anyone else I had ever worked with before.

"I have questioned his orders too many times and he does not trust me. I questioned him when he told me to kill Ari and that cost an NCIS agent her life. I questioned him whenever he told me not to get involved with someone and that always cost them their lives. I am questioning him about Michael and this one might cost my life. I cannot question his orders this time. I am known for following orders, but I am actually quite terrible at it! I cannot allow this one to cost your life, Tony."

"You defended me in there, Ziva," Tony said quietly to me, as though recalling something important. "You stood up for me and for yourself in there. That's a start. Do what you have to do and come home safely."

I nodded into his chest. "Forgive me for what I tell Gibbs when it is time for you all to go home. You are going to be my scape-sheep," I told him quietly, sounding as afraid as I felt of the coming moments in my life.

"Goat, Ziva. I will be your scapegoat," Tony corrected automatically, after so many years of correcting my incorrect American idioms.

"Whatever," I sighed, rolling my eyes on his chest and pushing away from him, so I could compose myself and do what needed to be done to make all of them go away without me.

"You're already forgiven," he whispered, seeing the pain I had been trying to hide from him the whole trip and understanding just how devastated I was with the situation my father had just put me in with this choice.

"Tony, I... Thank you," I muttered, avoiding the same words he had avoided a few days ago in Washington. "I will fight like hell to come home. But I do not know if we will ever see each other again."

"We will," he promised me and opened the door for me so we could ride back to the airport so the others could go home and I could start this fight.

Gibbs started walking away when we got to the airport, expecting me to be behind him. It was now or never. It was the final step in betraying the team, who was the family that I loved. My eyes slipped to Tony, who was already on the plane as I called out to Gibbs. He gave me a small nod and I finished my way over to Gibbs.

"Plane leaves in five minutes, Ziva," he said to me as a reminder.

"Not without you, it does not," I said, choosing my words carefully and knowing how he would react already to what I was going to say to him now. "I think it is best if I simply speak from the heart."

"Well, yea. It usually is," Gibbs encouraged.

"It is Tony. I am still not convinced that he has been entirely truthful about Michael's... Rivkin's... shooting," I said, shifting my weight uncomfortably as I began lying to my boss and the man I viewed as a father; the good father, that is.

"He gave his word," Gibbs said and my heart was already breaking as I continued to lie my way out of going home to safety for the sake of Tony.

"I am not sure we can work together," I told Gibbs uncertainly. "Perhaps it is best if one of us gets transferred to another team."

"Transferred?" Gibbs asked and I was almost sure he saw right through my lies right then, judging by the look on his face as I suggested this and he questioned it.

"I need to be able to trust the people that I work with," I said, feeling the stinging of tears building up behind my eyes and refusing to let those tears show and fall right then. "I know you, more than anyone, understand that."

Gibbs glanced beyond me, to my father, and then I knew that he realized exactly what was going on. There was a look of understanding that crossed his face and I thought for sure I was going to lose it, because I could see him giving into it. Telling Gibbs that I did not trust Tony was similar to telling someone that had perfect vision that the sky was purple. It was one of the most obvious lies I had ever told. But, I could see that Gibbs was going with it, because he could see in my face that there were reasons for my carefully chosen words right now.

Gibbs leaned in and kissed my cheek, giving me what I was silently asking for from him. "Take care of yourself," he said to me quietly.

I looked to Tony as Gibbs got on the plane and my heart was breaking right into pieces and shattering a little further. Tears were in my eyes, making them moist, and I could not force them back anymore. He had a similar look of pain on his face, but gave me a nod of encouragement as Gibbs stepped out of my view. He would tell Gibbs, maybe, when it was too late to change their minds about protecting me. That was what we were silently agreeing on. And I stayed and watched the plane until I could not see it anymore.


	4. Difficult Information

**Chapter 4**

**Difficult Information**

Tony is back at NCIS and quite alone. He has to tell the team that Ziva stayed innisrael but is unsure of giving them the real reasons why or any false hope that she might come back at some point.

Characters: Abby, McGee, Palmer, Tony, and Ziva

_Tony's POV_

The elevator. It felt like home, but it was oddly empty at the moment. Too empty and too quiet. It felt as empty as my chest, which felt like it had a gaping hole in it, where she belonged. Nothing here seemed to be quite the same knowing that Ziva wasn't here and that she would soon be in danger.

Fighting for me. Fighting for my safety. That was what she was doing. It was this honorable action (that I would keep secret) that spoke volumes to me. It told me everything. But it still hurt. It hurt like hell.

We had both known exactly what Gibbs would do when she forced him into a decision like that. We both knew exactly what she was asking of him and how he would react. The twelve hour flight had been entirely silent, since I wasn't telling him yet that she made the decision to protect me and that she did trust me. Then again, would I ever share that with him.

But this lonely elevator ride was agonizing and so entirely lonely.

Finally, the elevator opened, letting me out. Abby was sitting at Ziva's desk, waiting impatiently and finishing a rant wondering where we were.

"Okay, their flight has arrived. Where are they?" Abby said, sounding frustrated as ever.

"Behind you," I said, really dreading this discussion; but it was unavoidable and that was one of the dreads about the lonely elevator ride.

"Yay! Welcome back!" Abby shouted, going for a hug.

"Watch it," I said, wincing in pain as she slammed into my fractured arm.

"I missed you, sorry," she said, as I went for my desk, ending to sit for this, needing to recover and thinking I might not.

"I missed you too, Abbs," I said quietly as Palmer started getting up from my chair.

"Tony, I..."

"Jimmy," I said, pulling out his first name, right after shortening Abby's name; they should've realized that something was going on.

"So, Ziva's getting her stuff, or...," McGee began awkwardly, glancing back at the elevator.

"No."

"She's parking the car?" Abby asked excitedly, bouncing a little on her toes in her anxiety at hearing the right answer.

"No."

"Well, what is she doing?"

"Well, considering the time difference, probably eating breakfast," I said, not looking at them. It was her choice. She was protecting me. I had to remember that to keep my composure in front of my coworkers.

"She's still in Tel Aviv?" Palmer asked, his face dropping in shock.

"Yep."

"Well, when is she coming back?" McGee asked.

I still hadn't made eye contact with any of them, because I didn't want to lie to them, but didn't exactly want to tell them the truth of the matter either. I had heard her conversation with her father. When she got too close to someone he made them disappear forever. She obviously knew this pattern and she was choosing to protect me from this pattern. That meant a lot and I had had a twelve-hour silent flight to think about her actions. She wanted me around. She was doing whatever it took to make sure I was safe from Mossad and her father. She cared for me more than she had any of the others and found me worth fighting for. It said all those unspoken feelings that were still quite unspoken, but definitely known on both ends.

"She's not," I said, getting them as close to the truth as I could; I couldn't exactly tell them she was maybe not going to live through this and maybe coming home.

Saying she might come back at some point would give the false hope, and I knew that whatever her father was going to put her up to was going to be a huge risk to her life. The others didn't need the details of that, and therefore it was better to just tell them she wasn't coming back at all. It made it easier for them to deal with, and easier for Gibbs. I was the only one who had to suffer with all this.

"No! This cannot happen! Vance cannot do this again!" Abby protested immediately.

"It wasn't Vance's call," I told her, so she wouldn't blame Vance for this, since he was the only one surprised when Gibbs showed up on the plane without her.

They all looked at each other, all wondering the same thing. McGee spoke the words; the question that nobody ever actually wanted to hear the answer to. "Well, if it wasn't Vance, then who?" he asked.

"Gibbs?" Abby asked looking hurt, and I shook my head and sighed, not wanting them to blame Gibbs either.

"Ziva would have me tell you it was her father's call, but it was her decision to stay behind. She played into Gibbs so he would leave her on the tarmac in Tel Aviv. I knew it was coming and her father knew it was coming. I'm pretty sure Gibbs knew it was coming too," I explained. "Trust me, it was necessary for her to stay behind. She had a good reason." And that was as close to the whole truth as I was going to get them.

They didn't speak for several minutes. They stared at me. I could see Abby believing me. I could see McGee doubting my words, but I wasn't explaining this one to them. I wasn't telling them that she and I came to a mutual understanding starting right after I shot Rivkin who had betrayed her terribly and that she was protecting my life from her father's wrath over her feelings regarding me.

My phone buzzed. I looked at it, glad for some distraction in this terrible conversation with my coworkers, wishing Gibbs had done it himself instead of leaving me to it.

_Ziva: I will keep in touch with you whenever I am able, Tony. I am sorry for what I said to Gibbs, but it was the only way to make him let me stay. I think you know this. I think you heard enough of my conversation with my father to know why I am doing this and exactly how I feel about you. I need to know you are okay. I need to know you are alive. You have given me a lot worth fighting for. I will not betray your trust and I will not betray NCIS on the mission my father is sending me on. All I can tell you is that it is dangerous and if you feel it's been too long since we talked at some point, it has. If that time comes, check the laptop that Rivkin had in my apartment. Do not use it unless you need to. I need you safe, but I need to know that you will have my back if something goes wrong. Be safe, Tony. Remember, I will always be fighting for you._

And, there were the unspoken emotions again, hitting me harder than before as they were dangled in front of my face. I saved the text message before answering it. I had no choice. I knew that whatever she asked me to do in this situation, I would do it. I would do anything for her. I would always have her six, no matter how many miles stood between us and how many dangers there were. I was definitely bending the line in my promise to her as I typed, and I didn't care.

_Me: You are forgiven, Ziva. I've got your six, always. I will fight just as hard for you. Be safe. Be careful. Watch your six on this mission so you can come back home and we can talk about all this properly. I will keep out as you asked for a while and follow my gut on this one. I don't want to be on your father's bad side. I heard what he said to you in his office._

And there was my confirmation of my understanding of, not only what she said to me and her feelings, but of her reasoning behind it. This would be the closest either of us got to telling each other our feelings until I would be able to see her again, which would be a long time from now, and I knew it.


	5. Partners

**Chapter 5**

**Partners**

Ziva has been given her assignment, which will be in Somalia. She and her partner Malachi Ben-Gidon are on a ship called the Damocles on the way to Africa. They have a late-night conversation that helps them understand each other a little better as they both struggle to adjust to the new partnership.

Characters: Ziva and Malachi

_Ziva's POV_

It's the middle of the night. I'm on a ship. It's a simple cargo ship, but still a ship, nonetheless. The Damocles, it's called. I'm unwillingly partnered with Malachi, wondering what he did to deserve a suicide mission. The question is always at the edge of my mind, but I never ask. But, I've unwillingly accepted that we're partnered together now, though I'm reluctant in my admission of the facts.

If there was one time I really wished I had Tony at my six, it was most definitely now. We were going on a very dangerous mission to Somalia, in the desert. It wasn't that Tony was anymore qualified than Malachi, because he certainly wasn't; it was simply that I trusted Tony beyond anyone else, and communicated better with him than anyone else; that would make this impossible mission both bearable and doable. This assignment would be easier with Tony than anyone else in the world.

I couldn't sleep as I wondered about how my fate had changed so horribly and as I remembered exactly why I was agreeing to this horrifying mission. I had chosen the change of fate for something I never thought I would; for an attachment that was just too strong... the dreaded L-word. Tears were in my eyes, but even in the darkness I refused to let them go, unsure if Malachi was awake or asleep. I didn't trust him and couldn't have him see or hear those tears. It turned out to be a good thing I wasn't letting go.

I heard him hop down from the top bunk. I pulled my gun out from under my pillow quickly and pointed it at him as he faced me. He laughed and pushed my gun away, kneeling next to the bed, still holding my wrist gently.

"Always so alert. I guess you were right, America has not softened you in this respect," Malachi said to me, sounding satisfied.

I made a huffing sound, satisfied that he found my reaction time worthy of sleeping on the bottom bunk. But I knew he wasn't just there to compliment me. He had something more to say. He had a good reason for hopping down and risking his life by startling me.

"America has softened a part of you, Ziva," he continued on.

"I am not soft," I disagreed harshly.

"Perhaps soft was the wrong word," Malachi offered thoughtfully, wanting to say this correctly. "You are right, you are not soft. Ziva, I know you. You are worrying about something. But there is more. Your emotions are stronger than they ever were before. It is a good thing. You are less robotic; more human than you were before."

"There is nothing troubling me," I insisted stubbornly. "You are wrong."

"Ziva, I know you. This is not something you can lie about or hide. Perhaps it has been four years, but some things do not change. What is troubling you, Ziva?"

I did not answer him. There was no sense in answering him. It was not like he would understand, especially since he did not understand that I was not Mossad when I tried to explain that earlier. The Mossad had left me while I was in America and it had nothing to do with training or not training; it has to do with trust and loyalty. He waited a moment, and then he reached to the table, and picked up the picture laying there.

"This is about Special Agent DiNozzo," Malachi concluded on his own. "Your feelings for him are stronger than you wish to admit to even yourself. And, do not tell me I am wrong. I wonder, though... You say you are not Mossad anymore and that Israel is not your home anymore, and I can see that. America has become your home and NCIS has become your family. That is okay, Ziva, even if your father does not agree. But, I wonder why it is that you stayed behind? Why are you doing this?"

"You would not understand," I sighed and sat up, snatching the picture away from Malachi and looking at it again, wishing I could see him one last time, give him one last hug, and perhaps admit the unspoken feelings I've always held back. One tear graced my cheek and I quickly swept it away, pretending it never existed.

"So, it is about Tony," Malachi said understandingly, squeezing my wrist in an attempt to comfort me. "Ziva, try talking to me. You would be surprised what I can understand."

I sighed and handed him the picture again, not looking at him. "What do you see?" I asked curiously, wondering if he could see how different this picture was from the hardened Mossad assassin I used to be.

"You look happy," he said with a soft smile. "More specifically, you look happy with him, Ziva."

"He killed Michael Rivkin, an officer of Mossad. You know what my father's normal reaction to that is. With Director Vance there it was harder for Eli to justify that action. But, my father made a threat with only one way out of it. He thinks I have gotten too close to Tony, and he is right. He threatened to take his life, as he has done to others who I have gotten too close to. But he offered a way out, as he always does when I am somewhere close to this position. I never thought I would make this choice."

Malachi's eyes lit with understanding and he nodded his head as he comprehended what I was actually saying to him. His eyes looked sad and he did not look me directly in the eyes, probably feeling uncomfortable with such depth in emotions.

"And that is why you are doing this. Ziva, your heart is not in it," he informed me, sounding worried for my safety.

I shook my head, disagreeing silently with him. "My heart is, just not my head," I told him honestly, seeing that he could understand more than I gave him credit for. "I am not who I used to be, Malachi. I do not want to be who I used to be. And, I do not think I know how to be who I used to be."

"You do not have to be, Ziva. You have good motivation to succeed in this mission. You will do it. Do it for him. Then, go home to him and have your own happy ending."

My eyes narrowed toward him, but I knew the glare was not a hard one. Nobody had ever dared to suggest those words yet about the two of us having something more. But, perhaps that was how Malachi was going to become a trusted friend before the end of this.

"How can I succeed on a suicide mission?" I asked, voicing my concerns out loud for the first time.

"By fighting," Malachi said sternly. "Fight the fight of your life, Ziva. Fight for your freedom. Fight for Tony, because even if you are not ready to say it, you love him, and as far as I can see, he is more than worthy of your love. Do this and prove your father wrong. Prove to him that you are still strong, even if it is in your own way and not the way he trained you to be. Prove to him that you are able to make up your own mind. He knows you chose this and I think he can determine why. Has he not given you similar choices before?"

"He has," I admitted to him again, knowing he already came to the correct conclusions about my situation. "But, none of those men were..." I hesitated, unable to say his name right then and choking back the tears that were trying to show through.

"They were not Tony. They did not have your love. They did not have your heart. They did not earn your trust. Tony has all that and therefore you are choosing to fight for his life and your right to love him."

Malachi was right. I also knew that my father could see what this decision really meant underneath my stern face and unspoken words. But, even if I survived this, how would I convince my father to leave me be, and let me have my freedom? I guessed I would have to wait and find that out and continue to fight.

"You should sleep while you have the chance, Ziva. Put it out of your mind for tonight. I will do my best to get both of us out of this alive, but I will need your help. You need to put your head into this too and be smart with it."

He moved away, replacing the picture to the nightstand. As he climbed up, I realized how much his understanding meant to me on a mission like this and in a situation like this. It made it easier to trust him with my life. At least it wasn't impossible to give him some trust.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Anytime, Ziva," he muttered and finished his climb.

I still wasn't able to sleep after our conversation, but I was more at ease after learning that Malachi did understand and was trustworthy enough to talk to about something troubling me. I rolled over and closed my eyes, deciding the least I could do was get some rest.


	6. Coming Clean

**Chapter 6**

**Coming Clean**

Gibbs is in his basement a week after leaving Israel and finds a letter from Ziva in his mail. He is not shocked by the contents but doesn't fully expect what he reads either.

Characters: Gibbs

_Gibbs' POV_

It had been a week since we left Israel. I watched the team carefully during this time, because Ziva was with us for four years and was definitely a member of this dysfunctional family. She was as much apart of the family as I was. She had won their hearts and their trust. She belonged with us.

I knew the others would be sad about her absence, just as I was, and I was right. McGee and Abby were reacting as expected; they were down, but it didn't stand in the way of their jobs. But, Tony was more upset than I expected, considering how they left things. Tony was quite clearly devastated, and it was affecting his sleep, his eating habits, and his work.

But, what Tony didn't know, was that I had caught a small glimpse of what was really going on between them before Ziva left. I knew what she was doing and I knew basically why she was doing it. Unfortunately, I thought she was making a big mistake by going on a dangerous mission, as I expected her father to send her on. They hadn't realized I was in the office after Ziva's final conversation with her father. I had seen a small glimpse of those two letting their guard down just a little, and letting some of their emotions show.

As I was in my basement that night, sorting through my mail, I noticed an unexpected letter had arrived with an Israeli return address written out in Hebrew. I ripped it open immediately, because there was only one person I knew in Israel with easy access to my address who might want to send me mail.

_Gibbs,_

_Shalom. I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing it to you before I go on my mission, because I think it is necessary to come clean with you about some things. First, I am sure by now you have heard that I was sent to kill my brother and earn your trust. That is true, but I want to be clear. I would not have simply killed my brother for someone's trust. You trusted the evidence and the evidence told me he was guilty. You also went to great lengths, at your own personal risk, to prove to me that you were right about him; something that my father would not do. You were right and I protected you because you had already earned my trust. I want it clear that I did not do that for my father and had no intention of killing Ari when I first arrived in America._

_I wish, beyond everything, that that day was different. I wish I had not needed to kill Ari. I wish you had been wrong. But, you were not wrong and I do not regret saving your life. You have become the father to me that mine never was. This brings me to my next point, which is Michael Rivkin._

_I did know him, as I said. I had worked with him, as I said. I should have told you I was seeing him; it was not fair to hide this information from you. I was not given much choice in that regard, though. He was ordered to stay at my apartment and I was ordered to do whatever he wished. He wished to make the stay a physical one and although I tried to fight it, I failed. Tony delivered the justice I needed in that regard, though he does not know how he saved me, I think._

_I did not exactly enjoy the time Rivkin was in DC, but I was definitely conflicted on his intentions. I now know that he was using me in much the same way my father used me. I did not know the nature of his mission, and I am now sorry that I do know the nature of it. It is a suicide mission that was intended for him, because he got too close to me. It is now my mission because there is someone I have gotten too close to._

_I think you know this, but in must tell you, Tony means more to me than a simple partner or coworker. He is my best friend and he has given me a good reason to fight against my father, even if it does not seem that I am doing that._

_I will now break rule six. Gibbs, I am sorry. I lied to you in Israel. I trust Tony beyond what words can tell you. He has always been the most constant thing in my life for the past four years. I always know what to expect out of him. I can trust him in every situation. I lied so you would leave me behind. It was an easy choice when my father gave it to me. There were only two options and I could not even consider the other option._

_My father wanted to eliminate Tony. He wanted to kill him. He would have done it on the pretense of him killing Michael Rivkin, but in reality he would have killed Tony because we are too close. That was one choice, and one that I am guilty of choosing in the past, because the other choice is not really beneficial to me. My other choice was to take on Michael's mission. It is a suicide mission, Gibbs. I probably will not return from this mission, but I was told that if I do this my father will leave Tony and the rest of NCIS alone. I cannot bear the thought of a world without Tony in it, or any of you. Like I said, the choice was easy._

_I mentioned that I have made the other decision in the past. I am guilty of this, yes. But now I could not make that decision. I would sacrifice my safety for all of you a thousand times over if I had to. I am here for Tony and he knows this, even if he has not shared that with anyone, as I am sure he has not. He will be worrying silently and will not show his pain to any of you, at least not fully. He will be hurting deeper than what even you can see, Gibbs._

_I do not want you to look for me or try to find out what I am doing. I do not want you to get involved with this. I do not want you to put yourself in harm's way for me. This will make my father angry and he will break his word to me and harm you. There is only one person that could potentially involve himself and not risk harm if the circumstances are right. He knows who he is and what those circumstances might be. It would prove his worth in a way that nobody else will ever be given the chance to prove there worth to my father. I hope it does not come to that, though. I do not want harm to come to Tony._

_Goodbye for now. Shalom, Gibbs._

_Ziva_

And, for the next week, I watched the team, especially Tony. After all that Ziva said to me, I found many of the characteristics of a broken-hearted and worrying man. I found that Ziva's hidden message of her feelings for Tony were quite mutual.

Damn it, I thought. Even without dating or sleeping together, their hearts found a way of breaking rule twelve. And, this was a good reason to have it in place. Ziva was putting herself in harm's way to protect Tony. She hadn't done that before and something told me she wouldn't ever do it for anyone else. Tony was it for her and it was pretty clear to me that she was it for Tony.

Ziva made the right choice, even if I didn't like it. I would've protected them, and I thought she knew that, which was why she played her cards the way she played them in Israel. It had to be her choice though. It proved to me that she was not only worthy of my trust, but she was also still worthy of a place on this team. She really belonged here, and her heart was here. I sighed at the end of that week as I fully accepted her decision and made the call to respect that decision, mostly.


	7. Breaking a Promise

A/N - thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed. I am glad you are liking the story. To the guest who reviewed (because I cannot personally reply): thank you; I am glad you're enjoying it, and somehow, I don't think the writers of NCIS would use my version, but it means the world to me that you think I should tell them this story!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Breaking a Promise**

Ziva has fought her way off the Damocles and is in the desert of Somalia alone. She left an injured Malachi, her partner, at the port on her father's orders. She has a big fight ahead of her to survive and considers a promise she once made about her rules on getting captured. But, is her plan enough?

Characters: Ziva, Saleem, Saleem's men

_Ziva's POV_

The sun was very bright. The heat of it was beating down on me and causing my hair to stick to the back of my neck and my shirt to cling to my back as I moved silently across the hot sand of the Somali desert toward the camp I saw in the distance. I moved swiftly through the dunes and abandoned villages of the hot desert, going carefully and being extremely alert.

When I was close enough I glanced around me and lay down on the other side of a sand dune. I put the binoculars to my eyes and peered carefully into them. The sand was burning my stomach through my shirt and it was uncomfortable. I didn't like the amount of heat that surrounded me now.

There it was. It was the terrorist training camp I was looking for. I could easily see two guards at the gates and two on the other side. There were men moving about inside the fences and two guards standing at doors to a building. There were no less than twelve men in my sight and that was only outside the camp.

I used the binoculars and I carefully scanned the windows of the building nearest to me, thought there were other buildings in the encampment. Two. Three. Five. Eight. Another twelve men visible. Then I spotted him talking to another man at the far right end of the building.

Saleem Ulman. A terrorist. He had killed two of members Mossad. NCIS had killed two of his men. He had killed one NCIS agent. It was a silent war that the comfortable Americans and most Israelis didn't hear about.

He had a cell in Los Angeles that NCIS had taken down just before I came here. I was here to take him and all of his men out. That was a minimum of twenty-six men as far as I could see. I was sure there were more in places I could not see from where I scanned the camp. I took in a breath as I prepared myself for this, suddenly wishing I had not left Malachi behind as my father told me to. I would need backup for this, but I was going to need to find a way to do this without backup. But, I realized now that the words suicide mission were a desperate understatement.

I remembered telling Tony that I would never get captured alive and I suddenly realized that I might go back on my word today. If there was anyone worth breaking that promise for, it was him. If I was going to fail and get captured, I was not going down easily. I would fight for my life, no matter what it would cost me personally. If I survived there was a chance of getting rescued someday. Tony would realize sooner or later that I was silent for too long and he would come for me. But, that was the worst case scenario. I had to think of a way to do this without getting captured.

I did not want to get captured alive, surely, although I did not want to die either. And at that moment, considering it, I knew that I would much rather get taken alive than die at the hands of Saleem, the subject of my mission. I had already fought too hard to lose it all now and there were too many things riding on this mission, too many things that were left unfinished. That was enough motivation to stay alive. I had to see Tony again.

I moved further down the dune and quietly loaded my gun. I had two knives within easy reach and another two that were better hidden. I had a gun in my hand and one at my hip. I also had a small gun at my ankle in case of emergency. I chuckled to myself about Gibbs' rule nine. Never go anywhere without a knife. I had four, that should suffice, maybe. It would certainly impress Gibbs, if nothing else. I shook the thoughts off of both Gibbs and Tony for the moment.

Now, I needed a plan. Obviously I had to be as silent as possible and I had to get the four guards at the gate without being seen or heard. Once inside it would be easier to go undetected because there were more things to hide behind and sneak around. I rolled over and looked through my binoculars again. There was a parked truck at the bottom of the dune. It was close to the gate and if I went around behind it was doable. I sighed and rolled back over to my back, mentally preparing myself for what needed to be done. This was going to be difficult, or impossible, but I had to do it if I wanted any chance of living to see my family in America and Tony ever again. I was ready.

Even as I sat there with the plan, I considered the alternatives. I could still walk away from this. I could disappear from the Somali desert and go home. I could go to America and see Tony and Gibbs. I could ask them for help, and it was so tempting. My heart was constricted as I thought about it. But, that would anger my father to no end. It would make things worse for the Americans. It would put Tony in double danger; danger from the mission and danger from my father. I swallowed hard and decided that I had to fight to free him from my father.

I went down the dune, just as planned and silently sighed with relief when I got to the truck without being seen. I went around behind the truck, slicing the throat of one guard and stabbing the other in the chest. Somehow I avoided getting blood on me with those two and they made no noise. Two down, too many to go. I slid quickly through the gate and snapped the neck of one, before slitting the other's throat and made my way to a barrel to hide from those who were in the middle of training. Four down. Not bad.

I thought the next best move would be going inside and then working my way back outside. I took another breath and moved, silently killing the guards at the door. I slipped inside and leaned my back against the wall, looking carefully around the corner. There were two men walking from the room he was in. I made my move as they went to pass, killing both with my knife and then, moving quickly down the hall and opening the door to his room and holding my gun up, pointed toward the back of his head. This was easier than I had thought, but I couldn't let my guard down yet. He was still alive and breathing.

I heard him laugh as he started to turn slowly around to face me. I clicked the safety off the gun in my hand and then there were hands on me, pulling my arms down and my gun away. I threw my elbow out, hitting one in the jaw and sent him stumbling backwards. The other one landed a punch to my kidney and I spun, hitting him in the face. His arm came around for a hook punch, which I blocked, landing a punch to his throat and sending him gasping for air. The other got up, coming at me and I stabbed him in the chest and spun again, holding out my second gun. There was fear present in Saleem's eyes.

"You are feisty, Ziva David," he said to me, with a smile appearing on his face. I knew that wasn't a good sign for me. Not only did he already know who I was, but he was smiling while I held a gun to his face. There were probably more men ready to back him up right then.

An arm came around my neck. I ducked out of it, and as I spun around, a fist made contact with left eye and everything went entirely black. In that instant I realized that killing me was not Saleem's intention at all, otherwise I would've already been dead. He wanted to capture me alive for some unknown reason. And as the lights were knocked out of me, one face entered my mind, with that gleaming smile that I would know anywhere. And, that broke my promise to him years ago. I was captured alive.

Darkness. Pitch black. Blank.


	8. Dreaming the Truth

**Chapter 8**

**Dreaming the Truth**

Ziva is unconscious after getting captured alive. She has an alarming dream with a few unexpected faces. Can the people she knows stop arguing long enough to give her advice before she wakes up?

Characters: Eli David, Ari Haswari, Caitlin Todd, Abby, McGee, Gibbs, Ziva, Tony, Malachi, and Saleem

_Ziva's POV_

_I was standing in the squad room of NCIS with its familiar orange glow from the combination of the orange paint on the walls and the light pouring in from the annoying skylight above. I was standing just in front of my desk. But what I saw in front of me and felt around me was rather an odd thing._

_I was very confused. I was in so much pain, like I had been in a fight or something and that was unusual, but I was horribly confused by who I saw standing there in the squad room with me. Eli David, my father and the Director of Mossad, was there with a stern look on his face and his arms crossed across his chest, looking as intimidating as ever. Ari, my brother and a dead mole of Mossad, was smirking at me from in front of Tony's desk. Behind me was a brunette woman I had never met, but had seen in plenty of pictures; her name was CaitlinTodd and she was also quite dead. Tony DiNozzo, Tim McGee, Abby Sciuto, Ducky, Palmer, Gibbs, and Malachi were all in the background, which confused me more than the people I saw right before me._

_"You got caught, Ziva. What did I tell you?" my father asked, his tone filled with disappointment and anger, telling me I should be ashamed of myself._

_"Never get caught, it's the worst fate you will ever suffer," Ari answered automatically, rolling his eyes._

_"That is quite ridiculous," Ducky interjected._

_"I quite agree, Doctor Mallard. Do not listen to him, Ziva. The worse fate to suffer is to lose love because of your actions, the way I lost your love when I tried to kill Agent Gibbs," Ari said, agreeing with Ducky, which he had often done when he was alive from what I had learned from the team._

_"And that was entirely your fault," Kate said angrily from behind me, causing me to jump because I had forgotten she was there. "If you hadn't shot me, he wouldn't have caught you and Ziva wouldn't have killed you. It's that simple. Problem solved. Too bad you can't go back and change it, looser."_

_"Getting caught is the worse fate, Ziva," Eli reiterated, ignoring the arguing between his son and Kate and the comment from Ducky._

_"No. Failing to fight for someone you love is the worst," Malachi said thoughtfully. "You did the right thing in choosing this mission, Ziva. Keep fighting and trusting in DiNozzo and you will find a way to get free of this. Use your feelings to guide you and inform you."_

_"DiNozzo?" Kate asked sounding shocked. "You fell for DiNozzo? How does that work out? I mean, you do know that DiNozzo is the classic playboy, right? He uses women for a night and leaves them. He wouldn't ever love you back. Falling for DiNozzo!" Kate laughed._

_"You should see the way they are," Palmer remarked with awe in his face, since he had seen all the changes in Tony since I arrived to this very day._

_"But, seriously, Palmer? Is she crazy? Falling for DiNozzo?" Kate asked skeptically._

_"DiNozzo is a typical american. Soft! Too soft for you, Ziva! You are a fool!" Eli shouted angrily at me. "Do not feel! Do not show emotion! You are a trained assassin and my assassins do not feel and are not soft! They certainly do not love those who are soft! The soft ones are all dead, as you soon will be and should be!"_

_"What do you know about it?" I questioned angrily, glancing first at my father and shooting a glare back at Kate, who was apparently agreeing with my father at that moment._

_"He only thinks he knows you, Ziva," my brother said soothingly, trying to reassure me and sounding more like the brother I knew as a younger girl. "He only knows Officer David. He does not know Ziva David and he does not know how good of an NCIS agent you are. He does not know what a good friend or daughter or sister you are, despite all his training to squash that out of you. He does not regard what your heart wants when he chooses for you."_

_"And you did?" Kate asked in outrage, standing on her feet and defending me thoroughly in this matter, asking the same question I would've asked my brother. "Did you regard her heart when you killed me, knowing that she was already sent to kill you? Did you regard what her heart wanted when you were going to kill Gibbs, knowing that she might be there?"_

_"No, Caitlin, I did not regard my sister, my father, or anybody else. I simply regarded my whim to destroy this team and get revenge on my father for what he did to me. And that is why I am a terrible brother and will never be able to redeem myself," Ari answered with the most honesty I had ever seen in his eyes._

_"Ziva, you have to fight!" Abby said, sticking in her two cents, as she usually did. "I mean that's who you are! You fight everything! You fight your feelings more than anything, really. But you fight orders, too, sometimes, especially if you don't agree with them and that's something I've seen you do, especially when you don't trust the person giving the orders. And you fight your friends and everyone else, because that's what you do! You have to fight this too, Ziva, and you have to come back home! Just come home to us, Ziva!"_

_"Do not listen to the Americans, Ziva. They are soft and you are Mossad," Eli pointed out. "You are better than them!"_

_"Clearly that is not as it seems, Abba," Ari stated, rolling his eyes again. "Ziva is no more Mossad than I was and I do not know why you cannot see that in her when you saw it so clearly in me. Do you not realize that she did not kill me at first because she did not trust your words? Abigail Sciuto is right, Ziva always fights everything, especially when she does not trust the person at the center of it and she clearly does not trust you."_

_"And you clearly weren't very Mossad, other than the training," Kate jabbed at him with anger lingering in her eyes, still fighting with Ari; the fighting was driving me crazy and I was having a difficult time keeping up with who was on which side of things._

_"Ziva," McGee said quietly in a brotherly way, "I think by now, I know you pretty well. I mean, it's been four years since I met you and I'm sure I don't know everything about you, but I've learned you pretty well and your habits, too. You'll keep your mouth shut, but maybe it isn't worth it this time. Maybe you should just talk for once. Maybe you should just say what you're feeling and tell everyone what you're thinking."_

_"Now, there's a genius idea, McGee," Kate said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. "Do you really think she'll make a drastic change like that while she's in such a vulnerable position? I mean, seriously, if she hasn't changed that in four years of being around people she can trust, she's not going to do it for a terrorist!"_

_"Do not get caught alive, but you did; you broke the number one rule. Now you must do everything to guarantee either your death or your escape, that is the rule, that is the law of Mossad," Eli said firmly, ignoring the other comments that were going around the group of people that I knew. "You know that we will not send anyone else in for extraction."_

_"Like always," Ari said, rolling his eyes and facing our father, "Director first and never a father! When are you going to learn that Ziva just wants a father once in a while and not the Director of Mossad?"_

_"Enough!" Gibbs called angrily and looked behind Ari, where Tony was sitting quietly and waiting for a turn to say something, but not instantly jumping at a chance to say it, seemingly intrigued by all that was being said and all the differing opinions in the room. "DiNozzo, I think, has something to say to our Ziva. Go on, DiNozzo."_

_He stood up and walked around Ari and right to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and giving them a comforting squeeze. There was pain in his eyes, but they were also filled with love, something I had seen there often, but had refused to admit to seeing or knowing what the look meant before._

_"You told me to wait until my gut has told me it's been too long. When that happens you know I'll find you. You know you can rely on this soft American to save you. You know you can trust me to do this. It's because you have my heart. I will follow it right to you, Ziva. What your father doesn't realize is that emotions can be a lot stronger than training if you know how to use them. Keep fighting, please. I will see you again," he said and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips._

* * *

I was aware of Arabic words being exchanged outside, issuing commands, like a training session. I was aware of the smell of wood and sand. It was hot inside, wherever I was. There was a throbbing pain in my head as my memory of getting caught came back to me. A few choice ideas lingered in my mind from that rather strange dream I had while I had been unconscious. Keep fighting. Fight for those you love. Stay alive. Trust your loved ones. Those were the things that were going to keep me going now.

I blinked. The light was dim, as though only sunlight was coming in through a window. It was a wooden room and I was tied to a wooden chair. The door creaked open and there was Saleem. He dropped a cigarette and stepped on it. The smell of smoke filled my nose and I wanted to gag, despising that smell as I always had. He moved toward me and grabbed my hair, pulling my head up to look at him, so that I had no choice but to go with it; and, I wasn't ready for the sudden movement.

"Tell me everything you know about NCIS," he demanded in my face.

"Screw you," I hissed and spit in his face, yanking my head out of his hand, causing my hair to pull as he tried to hold on.

"Feisty," he laughed at me. "You did a good job. You killed nine of my men by yourself. And you were so close to the intended target. You did not think I would actually let you get that far, did you? I knew you would never shoot someone in the back. Now, tell me what you know about NCIS."

I said nothing and turned my head away from him, looking at the dirty floor beside my feet. I was fighting silently for the moment, but it was fighting in the only way I knew how right now, as I sat tied to a chair and captured alive. But, I knew one thing, I needed to stay alive and I needed to fight. Giving a terrorist information was not the way to stay alive, so I would stay silent and hope he did not find his information from some other source. I learned one thing in America that was wonderful; you do not make deals with terrorists. I was not dealing with him.


	9. Hold Your Tongue

A/N - I am sorry this took so long. But here it is.

**Chapter 9**

**Hold Your Tongue**

Ziva is still tied to the same chair when Saleem tries truth serum on the Mossad officer, to see if that gets her talking at all.

Characters: Ziva and Saleem

_Ziva's POV_

The constant interrogations were definitely wearing on me. I was as silent as silent could get though, refusing to betray those I loved at NCIS, considering they were family. All Saleem wanted to know about, it seemed, was NCIS and I was not giving them up, no matter what he did to me; it was my promise to keep fighting for Tony that would keep me going through all this, and I knew it, but for now, it was all bearable. Each day, I was prepared for the worst and didn't get it, thankfully. My collar bone was broken and I was sure of it, but there didn't seem to be any other damages that were concerning to me.

I was still tied to the same wooden chair. I was fed and given enough water to be kept alive, but not much more than that, for the fear that I would find a way to fight if I was stronger, and I could tell already that I was losing some weight. They did not want me dead and it was clear from Saleem's actions. I knew this and understood this and used it as my tool to keep quiet and keep myself alive. I had the information that Saleem wanted. But, I was not giving it up, no matter the personal cost.

The door opened and Saleem came in, again, just like each day around this time. It was a routine.

"We will try a new approach today, my friend," Saleem said to me, talking to me as if he actually considered me his friend, instead of his prisoner who refused to talk.

I did not answer and did not watch what he was doing. I did not care to know what he was doing or what he was going to do. But, he was going to explain it to me, and I could tell. He seemed to be the type to like hearing himself talk; if he wasn't a terrorist holding me hostage he probably would've gotten along great with Tony.

"I have always been fascinated with the way chemicals change a person, react in their brains," he explained to me quietly as he worked where I couldn't quite see what he was doing if I had wanted to. "My personal drug of choice is caffeine. It keeps me sharp, focused. You know?"

Yes, I did know. I would kill for a cup of coffee right then; or even a glass of water for that matter. I could not clearly remember the last time I drank any coffee. I was pretty sure it was when I was in America last and perhaps the morning that Michael Rivkin was killed in a fight with Tony. That was too long ago. But I did not need it. I was just as focused on the task in my hand as I would be with the caffeine to help me. It was easy to keep quiet for now, though I knew that later on in this, if it lasted long enough, I would need all my mental strength to do what I was set on doing.

"The soviets had some luck with pure ethanol as an interrogation technique," he continued, without waiting for my response, knowing he was not going to get one from me. "This blend is of my own design. Sodium pentathol and several other reagents. I have found that it works well in extracting the truth."

Saleem walked over to me. I did not move, not that I could move, since I was still thoroughly tied to the chair. I had already wasted effort struggling against my binds in the darkness of night, and learned that I could not escape without getting the knife that was hidden at my ankle, which I could not reach from where I sat. They had missed that knife and that gun. I was surprised that they had not checked there, but it was a possibility that they had not had any prisoners with weapons hidden there before. And, I was fairly thorough about hiding my hidden weapons.

Saleem grabbed my arm and held it tightly and poked a needle into me, injecting the truth serum into me. The liquid was warm and not unpleasant as it went in. I made no reaction at all to the injection, not wanting to satisfy this man in any way.

"It should only take a few minutes to start working," he told me confidently. "You will feel clarity and ease of mind. You will feel the urge to talk without discretion. I will tell you it is best to go with it. If you do not, the adrenaline in your system will only speed up the chemical process in your brain."

It came out like a threat, but I knew it was the truth. The chemicals were already starting to have an effect on my tight lips. I had to bite my lower lip to keep myself from answering him. This was going to be a test of my will over his drugs, and for the first time since getting captured I was not sure who would win. I only knew that I had to find some way of keeping myself quiet and not talking to Saleem about NCIS even if I had to talk about other things in my life, which I would do over selling out those that were living.

"Please, tell me everything you know about NCIS," he requested, as though this wasn't an interrogation and more along the lines of a mere discussion between two friends.

I would have to choose my battles and my answers carefully. That was the only possible way to win this with will power. I bit my lower lip. There were so many things I could think of to talk about that had to do with NCIS. One of those things was Tony, and I was not so willing to do that.

"What does it stand for?" he asked me, seeing my struggle with my loosening lips that wanted to say so much more than my brain wanted to allow them to say.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," I answered willingly, with a breath of relief at the ability to answer something as simple as this. There were some questions that I didn't care about giving answers to, and that was one of them; he could've found that answer on the internet without my interrogation.

"That is better," he praised with a smile on his face. "Tell me the mission of NCIS."

"Investigating crimes involving the Navy and Marine Corps and there families. Anything having to do with them," I said, again speaking willingly, knowing that he could probably find that out anywhere also.

"What was your involvement with NCIS?" he asked me.

That was too much. I bit down on my bottom lip harder than I meant to, and it was rather painful, which took my mind off of his question and put it on the pain instead of an answer. That could be a tactic for me to get out of answering things.

"Okay, who did you know at NCIS? I want names of agents," Saleem said, clarifying his meaning as he asked the question.

I bit harder on my lip drawing some blood. I could taste the iron-like taste in my mouth as I sucked the blood back into my system, so he wouldn't see my trick. I was doing everything I could to hide this from him.

"Names, Ziva," he said quietly.

I said nothing, finding it easier to fight this than he had suggested it would be. There was no adrenaline running through my system yet. I was not afraid, just focused on not talking. It was still possible to beat this.

"Alright, fine, we will switch gears for a moment," he said quietly, deciding that patience was necessary. "I found this picture in your pocket when you were searched. Who is this man that you are seen sitting with?"

I looked at the picture. It was the one I had taken out of my desk before leaving for Israel that day. It was the picture of Tony and I sitting together after investigating a crime scene and laughing together, looking as though we were something so much more than partners or friends. That was one of my favorite pictures and now his dirty hands had touched it.

"You must answer me, Ziva. Is this your boyfriend?"

"No," I said simply and honestly, knowing that it wasn't a lie.

"He is an American?" Saleem asked.

"Yes," I answered.

"Important to you?" he asked, and didn't wait for a response before asking the next question. "What is his name?"

"I will not tell you anything further."

Then, he was angry; he was very angry. He had thought he was getting somewhere and he had gotten nowhere yet. He threw the picture and wrapped his hands around my neck and I did not struggle against him. I guessed that if he was going to kill me it was better for him to do so before he got angrier.

He made an impatient noise and walked away, leaving me quietly gasping for air that he had choked out of me momentarily. I heard him issuing a command in Arabic to my guard, he told him to keep the truth serum in my system, because he would be back later when he had cooled off a little.


	10. Persistent Silence

**Chapter 10**

**Persistent Silence**

Ziva is still fighting silently against Saleem, even through the truth serum. But, when Saleem gets angry and tired of her persistent, things change for Ziva and she doesn't know what's next.

Characters: Ziva and Saleem

_Ziva's POV_

"She will not talk!" Saleem shouted into the emptiness of the room, having lost his patience after two weeks of using the truth serum. I had had to fight harder and harder as he upped the doses. I had fought against the ropes and bit nearly through my tongue today, but I kept quiet. I didn't give him anything.

Saleem turned and faced me dangerously. He shoved my chair, knocking it over. I grunted in pain as it hit the floor. I heard the crack as it broke and felt it give underneath me.

He kicked the chair and it snapped again, freeing me. I quickly slipped my wrists out of their ropes and tried to scurry away and put some distance between us as I saw an opportunity to fight for my freedom again.

He slammed my back into the wall before I could get all the way to my feet. He pressed his forearm into my throat, cutting off my air supply. I struggled against him with all the strength that I had left. His knee contacted me hard between my legs, causing another painful grunt to leave me. I lurched forward at the contact but his forearm stopped me, causing me to choke a little with pain.

"Things will change," he warned me angrily. "You are disloyal to your country just like your brother was. You were disloyal to him as well!"

With those words, and a quick movement, my hands were tied again, but this time, they were tied to each other now and useless in a fight. He dragged me, by the upper arm, the same arm that had the already injured collar bone. I made my feet stumble to stay underneath me as he pulled me out of this room and into a much smaller room that had nothing but four walls and a dirt floor. He tossed me inside and slammed the door and a lock clicked, leaving me alone.

I was glad for the smaller room for now. It was more closed and seemed safer, although I knew that it could be just as dangerous as an open room, or more dangerous in different ways. And, since I had quite obviously angered Saleem today with my persistent silence, I was more than aware that this smaller room was likely to become my worst enemy. But, I was not going to think about that now since I felt a slight sense of safety for the moment.

Saleem had mentioned my brother and his statements were rather accurate. He had informed me that my brother was disloyal to Israel and that was the truth. Ari had worked for Hamas for sometime while still pretending to follow my father's orders. But, Saleem suggested that I was disloyal to Israel also. I knew, in my father's eyes that was the case. He thought that by following Gibbs' orders while I was a liaison officer, I was disobeying him. That was also somewhat due to the fact that I wanted Rivkin out of my life and out of my apartment.

But, I had also told my father that Israel was no longer my home. That was the truth. Israel was not my home and had not felt like home since I was a small child. Until recently I had no home. When I went to NCIS, however, that changed. America was my home and NCIS was my family. Mossad and Israel were not important to me anymore, and they wouldn't ever be again.

The important people in my life were the same people I knew I could rely on, no matter what. Gibbs was the father that every girl deserved and I had never received. He nurtured everyone on the team, taught us, and kept us safe. McGee was a brother and often reminded me of better days I spent with Ari. I could have a laugh with McGee or pull pranks on McGee and we were always fine at the end of the day. We could fight and be completely fine. I could also be somewhat serious with McGee when it was necessary, although I didn't like being serious with anyone.

Abby was a sister. She was strange but so filled with love and joy. She was a contradiction of terms. A happy goth. An oxymoron (not that that term made any sense). She slept in a coffin and was extremely excitable. It was exciting to be around Abby. Everything about her was entirely positive and I spent many joyous times with her. Ducky was like the grandfather of the team. I had never had a grandfather, so I enjoyed having Ducky in my life. He had many stories to share and almost a story for every situation he found himself in.

Then, there was Tony. Malachi pointed it out, and I had known it already, but had hardly admitted it to myself. But, I was ready now to admit it to myself. I was ready to let it out and tell the world. Except that Saleem couldn't know and I had to bite my tongue. But, I was in love with Tony. It was quite clear to me now. I would go through any amount of pain for that man, to ensure his safety. Even the unthinkable seemed bearable for him, but I had not encountered that yet, so I could not say for sure how bearable that would be.

Tony was my whole world. I had known, the first time I laid eyes on him. I had known that he would change my life somehow and I would never rid my mind of his smile, but I had not suspected how drastic that would be. Somewhere along the way, the thought of losing Tony became unbearable and I started risking myself more to have his back and protect him. He did the same for me. But, at some point, the need to have Tony in my life changed and transformed into a deep love that was quite clear and quite undeniable.

All my father could see of this, however, was that Tony and I were closer than he liked. He saw this sometimes and sent the man on a suicide mission after giving me a choice of having him leave the man alone if I chose a suicide mission. This was the first time I had ever chosen this corse for myself. If I somehow got out of this one, I would not know what to expect next. Would Tony be free, as my father promised? Would my father respect my decisions? Would I finally be free of him?

I was not likely to forget and forgive my father for this mission any time soon. I was not likely to forgive him for all the harm he placed on my life as I grew up and turned into a woman. But, it was definitely time for me to assert my independence, if there was a time to do so. I was going to make my own choices from now on, the way my mother always hoped I would. But, I could only do that if I found a way out of here, that wasn't going to happen today. But, I had hope still.

For now, however, I had a silent promise to hold onto. I had unspoken feelings to hold onto. I had the thought of Tony to hold onto. Tony and my family, who were still safe in Washington, waiting for Tony's gut to speak to him. And it would, eventually. I was trusting his gut now with everything I had,

I crawled toward the wall and sat up, moving my hands to my injured collar bone and feeling the definite break there, wincing as I touched it. I would need to remember to move that arm as little as possible for a while. I could manage that. I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, finding comfort in my thoughts and memories of happier moments.


	11. Time to Dig

**Chapter 11**

**Time to Dig**

Tony goes to see Gibbs after work. Ziva has been silent for almost two months and Tony thinks she could be in trouble. He wants to find out his boss's thoughts on it and share what he knows, in his own way and on his own terms.

Characters: Tony and Gibbs

_Tony's POV_

I had heard from Ziva consistently for about a week after returning to the US. But, not a word since then, which I had expected some of, though this felt entirely too long. I was very worried, which I had also expected, though I had not expected this much worry. It was two months now after leaving her behind and any mission she was sent on should be finished by now, or she should've been able to find a way to let me know she was alright by now, anyway. She hadn't contacted me at all in nearly two months, and that was concerning.

That night, I didn't leave NCIS with the others, but I didn't do anything else either. Earlier, at dinner, McGee and I had decided it wasn't natural for Ziva to be silent so long, but I felt this was a matter we needed Gibbs for, because of the international issue it involved. I thought for a few minutes and then went quickly to his place, parking my car outside of his house. I got out and went inside, since the door was always unlocked. Now that I was there, though I wasn't entirely sure if I should be there. But, I was already there, so I might as well make use of it.

I went to the top of the stairs, but didn't go down immediately. I was questioning myself on whether or not I should bring all this to him. I felt so uneasy about everything, from the situation with Ziva all the way to my emotional connection with this. But, I knew I should talk to him about it. It was always better to be honest with Gibbs, because he wouldn't be as disappointed if he found out something different later, or already knew something different.

"Come down, DiNozzo," Gibbs called up with his own creepy senses, not only knowing someone was here, but that it was me specifically.

I went down the stairs slowly, not too sure what to expect from this. Gibbs immediately handed me a cup full of whiskey. I accepted it willingly. I drank that one down right away and Gibbs already had another ready for me. He had one for himself also. He sat on a bench and I sat on the stairs. He clearly knew that this visit wasn't purely social and he clearly knew that it was deep and personal.

"Been too long since she spoke to any of us," Gibbs mentioned, bringing up the topic that I was now avoiding. "That's why you're here, isn't it?"

"Yea, boss," I agreed, knowing that this conversation was needed for both of us. "My gut..."

"Mine too, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as I drained my glass again and he drained his, pouring out another for each of us. "She contacted you at some point."

It wasn't a question. He saw right through me, as usual. He saw that there was a level of trust there that wasn't going to be broken by my killing Rivkin. He saw that there was too many emotions between us to keep us totally apart now and I didn't know how he had seen this. I said nothing to him.

"What did she say, DiNozzo?"

"Basically to listen to my gut. If I think it's been too long, then it has and it's time to do something about it. She said to go back to the laptop that we found in her apartment. Boss, can we keep Abby out of this?"

"As long as we can, yes," he said quietly. He stood and faced me uneasily. "I know she was doing this to protect you, DiNozzo. I don't know the terms or anything, but in her mind this was the only way to protect your life, which is obviously very valuable to her."

Again, I said nothing, unsure of how to react to him knowing that. My boss was not notorious for discussing feelings and here he was, not only discussing them, but showing them on his face. Instead of answering I finished another drink and he poured me a fourth. This was going to be a hard night. Something told me he wanted to know the feelings I was having, even though he hadn't asked that just yet.

"DiNozzo, we'll find her and get her back to safety, but I need to know how hard you're willing to fight. What is she worth to you?"

"Everything, boss," I admitted, oddly easily, considering who I was talking to. "I will do whatever it takes to get her back."

"Then, first thing in the morning we start digging. But, it doesn't affect our cases or the team, understood?"

"Yes, boss," I said with a nod, knowing that that was impossible, but agreeing so he would let it happen.

"Good. As for what I know... Mossad presence has increased in North Africa, as I said earlier today. There is a terror training camp there that they're watching and there was a female hostage among their number. Dunham didn't have a description or an identification on the woman."

"Your gut says its Ziva," I told him. "She was going off to do whatever Michael started and it had something to do with terrorists in Somalia, which is in North Africa. I remember that much of what Abby found on that laptop a couple months ago. Boss, I don't like this."

"I'm sticking my nose in wherever I can, DiNozzo. We're watching Mossad and Mossad is watching this terrorist, who I think is watching us, but that's just a gut feeling with no proof. Somewhere in the middle of all of this is Ziva," he said to me sternly. "That's not a safe place to be and if her father did send her out there he's not half the father I thought he was, which wasn't much to start with. Stay here tonight. You're going to need more of that if I know you."

"No, boss. I'm done drinking. I'm going to focus on finding her now. Don't need the alcohol with something so clear in front of me," I explained.

"And what is it that's so clear DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked raising his eyebrows.

I sighed. He already knew, so what was the point in hiding it from him. I was obviously in love with her.

"How much she means to me boss," I said quietly. "And how much we all mean to her."

Gibbs only nodded at the sentiment, already knowing what I was saying. He refused to admit it, but I could see in his eyes that he knew what I was talking about and had no surprises I hearing my avoidance of it or the clarity with which it was stated. I stood up and handed him his glass.

"You need anything, my door is open, DiNozzo," Gibbs said to me, making it quite clear to me that Ziva wasn't the only one he was concerned about right now.

I nodded in thanks to him and went back upstairs. I was cleared through him to bend the rules, although I might bend them too far at some point and that didn't matter. I would do whatever it took to get her out of whatever her father put her into. I would go to the ends of the earth for her if it took that. I wanted her back and I wanted to know she was safe. Right now all I knew was that she had no way of contacting me since a week after we left Israel, and that was two months ago. She had no way of letting me know if she was okay or not. I just didn't know and that scared the hell out of me, because I needed to know that she was okay.

I made it to my apartment and fed Kate, the goldfish. What would Kate, the person, think of me now? I, Tony DiNozzo, the infamous playboy, fell in love with the crazy ninja assassin. I was sure she wouldn't believe her ears or eyes if she heard or witnessed this. So many things had changed over the last four years since she was killed. I sighed and went to bed, without touching another drink that night.


	12. Talk of Mossad

**Chapter 12**

**Talk of Mossad**

Ziva is questioned calmly about Mossad because Saleem knows their numbers have increased in the area.

Characters: Ziva send Saleem

_Ziva's POV_

Saleem's tools were simple. A whip once. But mostly he used himself as his weapon. He was enough torture. One night, I questioned my reasoning for fighting, but picturing Tony was enough. I had enough reason to fight with my silence through any terrible torture to come my way. I wasn't tempted to speak, I wasn't even tempted to beg for death, but I resigned myself to whatever fate I would have.

The gash on my back from the one time he whipped me was definitely infected, and my clothes were destroyed. They had given me simpler white clothes of a prisoner, which were quite dirty. But, I still had hope that Tony would follow his gut and find me. I didn't know how long that might take.

How well had my father hidden this mission? What lengths would my father go to to keep a secret? I didn't know.

I ached all over now. There was the broken bone, which was red, inflamed and painful, although it felt like it was in the right spot. There was the gash on my back with persistent stinging and burning, with a fever to accompany it. There was the persistent ache between my legs which caused me to vomit whenever I thought about why it was there. And there were smaller aches and pains. Some were from being beaten and others were from sleeping on the solid ground with my hands bound.

I was also dehydrated and hungry. I was given just enough food and water, but just enough. I wasn't going to die from starvation or dehydration, but I was not comfortable either. I might die from the infection on my back, though. Or Saleem could get angry and kill me. But, I still had the information he wanted. I still knew what he needed to know and he obviously wanted information you couldn't find on the internet; otherwise he wouldn't need me alive still, and I would've already been killed.

There was at least one other prisoner in the camp. I heard her screams sometimes when Saleem wasn't in the room with me and I only hoped my mission was not destroyed by some other captive talking. I was clearly not Saleem's only option. I hadn't ever seen her and didn't know who she was. I only heard her screams.

It was this day, three months after being taken captive, that I was brought back to the interrogation room. I was heaved onto a chair and Saleem was sitting in front of me, looking casual. He said nothing for a long time, before a thoughtful look crossed his face.

"Violence does not sway you and neither do drugs," he remarked. "I underestimated you at our first meeting, Ziva David. Feisty was an accurate assessment, but you are also strong-willed and determined. I do not know how to break you. There must be some way to break through those walls you put up around your mind and your heart."

"Never underestimate your opponent," I said to him.

"That is a rule I should perhaps remember. Perhaps I should have already known that it was not just your skills that were strong when you killed nine of my men with no backup. Why did you come alone?"

"Because I was told to come alone," I answered honestly.

"By the Director of Mossad? Or, by NCIS?" he asked.

"NCIS has nothing to do with me being here," I said to him.

That was somewhat a lie. NCIS was the reason I was here. I was here to protect NCIS from Mossad. Not only was it a good political choice, but it was smart to keep two forces united that were already cooperative together. Had I not chosen this coarse, Mossad would've attacked an agent of NCIS. The United States would've needed to retaliate against Mossad and there would've been a short-lived, but spectacular war between the United States and Israel. I did not need a war breaking out because I did not love Tony enough to save him, but that was all an afterthought. I had only recently thought of these other benefits of my mission. I had had a lot of time to think about why I was here and what consequences my actions would have or should have had.

"This means that you are here on the behalf of Mossad," Saleem deduced. "But you know things about NCIS. You worked with NCIS for four years."

"If you can learn that, then what do you need me for?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"It is easier to learn where you were than it is to learn the details of what you do, Ziva, you must surely know this by now. Besides I have a source that informs me of your involvement in NCIS. But let us talk about Mossad for a few minutes, since we have not spoken about them at all. They are increasing in number in this area. Why do you think that is? Are they looking for you?"

"Probably looking for you. I would be considered a failed mission and assumed dead," I said to Saleem. "We are trained to never get captured alive. And, if by some chance we are captured alive we are supposed to assure either our death or our escape. If they are increasing in numbers in the area, then they are looking for course correction. A failed mission is unacceptable and it must be completed. They would be gathering intelligence in large numbers. It will be a team of two or three that would actually come after you. I would not worry until Mossad was gone from the area, if I were you."

"You are willing to discuss Mossad and not NCIS. This is entertaining," Saleem said and chuckled at the irony of the Israeli Mossad assassin giving information on Mossad. "So, if it is teams of two or three, where were your partners three months ago?"

"I only had one partner and he was too injured to continue on. He would have been a hinderance to the mission, rather than an asset. You must understand that when a decision needs to be made, it is made. The mission had to go, regardless of injuries."

"Would it not have been beneficial to the mission to hold off until a new partner could have been found?" Saleem asked.

"Perhaps you should be advising my father," I said to him thoughtfully, already knowing that was the best way he should've gone about it.

"Ah, so it is true. Your father is Eli David, the director of Mossad. What did you do to compel him to send you on a clear suicide mission?" Saleem asked.

"He does not deserve the father of the month award," I explained. "He has always been more interested in his career at Mossad than his children."

"Is that why your brother went the way he went? Poor parenting?" Saleem asked.

"Probably."

"Is that how your sister ended up dying at the age of sixteen in a bombing?"

"Probably," I said grinding my teeth together and wishing to discuss anything other than this.

"But you are his daughter, Ziva. Why would he send you on a suicide mission? Were you disloyal to him or your country in some way? I want to know your side."

"In his eyes I was disloyal. In my eyes, I was confused. He wanted me to have the trust of those at NCIS and follow them and their orders. But, at the same time he wanted my loyalty to only him and his orders."

"I can see how that would be confusing," Saleem sympathized. "I think we will leave the discussion there for today."


	13. An Anticlimactic Search

**Chapter 13**

**An Anticlimactic Search**

Tony enlists the help of Abby in his hunt for Ziva. He goes to great lengths to hide what he's feeling, while still succeeding in getting information with the help of Abby and McGee.

Characters: Tony, McGee, Abby, and Gibbs

_Tony's POV_

Three months. I was going out of my mind with worry and the only one who really knew about it was Gibbs. And we lost our daredevil probationary agent because of our not-so-secret, behind-the-cases work of finding Ziva. And, it was definitely not such a big secret at this point. I was pretty sure everyone in the building knew what we were doing. But, it wasn't talked about.

Abby Sciuto. She was the key. She was the help we needed in finding Ziva. McGee and I were stuck, so we decided it was time to ask Abby for her expert help.

"Abby, we need your help," I said as McGee and I went into the lab. "We're looking for Ziva. We should've come to you sooner. We didn't want you involved."

"I can't believe you were going to leave me out," Abby said angrily, glaring at us and heading for her computer.

"It wasn't personal," I said following her.

"Abby, it was for your own benefit," McGee insisted as he followed behind me.

It was for her own benefit. It was for her safety, after all. Every person involved in this was in danger, with perhaps the exception of me. I was meant for this and if I somehow succeeded perhaps someone could convince mister big-head-Mossad-Director that I was worthy of his daughter. Or at least worthy. I would be satisfied if Eli David would at least acknowledge that I was worthy as a person.

"So which was it?" she asked, seeing right through us. It was quite personal. We all knew it was personal.

She walked away and then turned around knowingly before walking back to us. "It was humerus. And McGee thought he could do it without you and he was wrong! He was so wrong," I insisted, except that it was me that wanted to leave her out from the beginning of the search; me and Gibbs, but McGee didn't know that Gibbs knew about this already. McGee thought this was hidden from Gibbs, which was exactly what Gibbs wanted.

"No, no, Abby. Abby, I was the one that wanted to enlist your help," McGee argued.

"Listen, can we get past this?" I asked her and McGee.

"Please," she said calmly.

"We've been tracking Ziva's movements as best we can," McGee said calmly.

"Since when?" Abby asked.

"Since she stayed in Israel," McGee answered.

"And took Rivkin's place on the Kidon unit," Abby said. McGee was surprised and I was intrigued. Leave it to Abby to already know where this was going and McGee to be clueless. "I've been doing the same thing. I mean it's weird that Ziva hasn't contacted me! It would be one thing if she just hadn't picked up the phone and called me, but I've tried to reach her several different ways."

"Psychics, crystals, or telepathy?" I asked, trying to keep the mood of the room light, even though I knew that this was definitely not a light conversation, especially not for me.

Abby turned and pointed at me. "No jokes," she warned me very seriously, reminding me that it was serious for more than just me. "Okay! Ziva is universally absent, it's really freaking me out.

"Alright, let's compare notes here. We've got NCIS on the ground in Dubai trying to figure out what Mossad's up to," McGee said.

"While Mossad is trying to figure out what some terrorist is doing," I added.

"And somewhere in the middle of this is Ziva," Abby said.

"And we know that Gibbs thinks the Director knows more than he's letting on," I said, speaking that out for the first time, although we all already read that much into the workings of Gibbs.

"And no one's telling us anything," Abby said. "So we have two options."

"And they're both illegal," McGee pointed out dimly. "Hack into Mossad."

"Or hack into Vance," Abby concluded.

"Oh that's it," a voice said from behind us. "I'm out of here."

And there went the daredevil with her tail between her legs like a terrified puppy running for a thunderstorm. She wasn't half as dating as she gave herself credit for. And this was where the line went from being simply bent to completely broken as Abby said, "Let's get hacking," in an excited tone as she went for her computer to hack.

And we all got to work. Abby was hacking Mossad and McGee was hacking Vance. I was following up on leads that I started with a while ago, before even talking to McGee and Gibbs. And that's when I learned about the Jordanian shop called the Damocles out of Acaba and headed for Somalia. Then it was only a couple days before it was cracked and we had answers, sort of... except that I didn't believe a word of it.

"It's the goat!" Abby said as I walked into her lab.

"The goat," McGee said in understanding.

"Sounds like you got something," I said.

"We're the two zuzim," Abby said. "Gibbs is our father, and he uses us to buy the goat. It all makes sense now."

"Sure," I said, unsure of what she was talking about.

"We accessed Mossad's files. They weren't in English, so we had to do a little rudimentary linguistics and hit the Hebrew school nursery rhymes," McGee explained.

"Chad Gadya," Abby said as she pulled up a file. It sang in the background.

"Then came the Holy One, blessed be God, and destroyed the Angel of Death, that killed the butcher, that slew the ox, that drank the water, that quenched the fire, that burnt the stick, that beat the dog, that bit the cat, that ate the goat, which my father bought for two zuzim. Chad gadya, chad gadya."

"So, what's the goat?" I asked, confused.

"It's the information that McGee and I recovered from the burnt laptop in Ziva's apartment," Abby said.

"With the location of a camp in North Africa run by a man named Saleem Ulman," McGee said.

"We gave it to Gibbs," Abby continued. "Gibbs gave it to Vance. Vance gave it to Eli David, who read it and put Ziva and a team on a Jordanian freighter called the Damocles."

"Out of Aqaba," I said, now following the flow of information perfectly.

"Uh, yea," McGee said. "Headed for the Horn of Africa."

"You got a manifest?" I asked.

"It's a cargo ship," Abby said. "It could be a direct supply line to Saleem."

"Where is it now?" I asked curiously.

"We don't know," McGee said.

"Find it," I ordered.

"We tried," McGee said. "There's no record of it appearing anywhere after May..."

"Why not?" I asked, throwing my arms out.

"Because it was lost at sea," Gibbs said walking in at the right time and catching my attention, pulling me back into the room. "The Damocles went down in a storm the twenty-eighth of May, off the coast of Somalia. There were no survivors."

Shock. Hurt. Anger. Denial. Pain. Denial again. That was what I went through in a matter of seconds. But, my gut was leading me through this whole thing and it had gotten me this far. I had to trust it. It was telling me that Ziva didn't die on the Damocles in a storm. Ziva would've found a way to land and to completing her mission. The determination in her eyes when we left told me this much. My gut told me she was the female prisoner that we heard about a month ago from Dunham who was in Somalia watching Mossad in Africa.


	14. Logical Reason to Fight

**Chapter 14**

**Logical Reason to Fight**

Tony must find an explainable reason to take out Saleem Ulman, other than his gut and emotions. He must make a case to present to Vance to convince him of this and he must lead the team on a successful mission by putting himself in harm's way.

Characters: Tony, Gibbs, and Vance

_Tony's POV_

I refused to believe it. Ziva was definitely not dead. Following my gut had worked this far and I knew that I had to trust it still. Ziva was out there, but in my mind this was Saleem's fault. I had to get Gibbs to let me make a case, so a couple of weeks later I went down to his basement again and went right down this time, but watched him as he worked on some wood and drank his bourbon quietly. I knew he knew I was there.

I was silent until he acknowledged my presence in his basement, because that was the only way he was going to get me to speak willingly about what was really on my mind after walking around for two weeks in a thoughtful trance that rendered me fairly useless for work. My heart and soul and head were focused on only one thing. And I broke my promise to Gibbs, because now that the search was over, it was definitely interfering with my ability to work. But, I had to find Ziva.

"Tony," Gibbs said, offering me a drink, that I promptly turned down. "What's on your mind, DiNozzo?"

"She's not dead, boss," I said.

"Evidence or gut, DiNozzo?" he asked as he sat down in front of me.

"Gut, boss," I whispered. "It lead me this far. It's been right up to now. She's not dead."

"I think the same. What're you going to do about it, though, DiNozzo? We can't prove that the female captive is anyone and Mossad isn't talking about anything. I can tell you, off the record, though, that her partner for the mission, Malachi Ben-Gidon, has been seen in the Somali desert. I asked Dunham about it, because I was curious to know if he was around. I showed him the picture and he recognized him almost immediately."

"Got to find her, boss. It's more important than the cases, I think you know that," I said to him.

"Then say no, DiNozzo. But, come up with something better than your gut telling you she's alive. I can't forego a case based on your gut, and I think you know that by now," he insisted.

"What if I present it to you as there still being a terrorist out there that we need to stop before he kills someone else, and go with the theory that Ziva is dead?" I asked him.

"At least I know you're not entirely dysfunctional, DiNozzo. Tomorrow, I guess would be the time to do it," Gibbs pointed out. "Just don't chicken out when I question you telling me no. You know I've got to, and I would honestly prefer if you didn't and don't ever do it again after this unless it's an answer to a yes or no question. That understood, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. "This one will fall under rule thirty-eight, I think: your case, your lead. This has always been your case, Tony."

"Thanks, boss. That's a lot of talking for a functional mute," I said quietly and he chuckled.

"Good to have some of that sense of humor back, DiNozzo," he said, before pointing upstairs and indicating that I should go home and sleep on this, considering I would definitely need my rest for what was to come, especially with me leading the case this time.

And then, I said no.

"No?" Gibbs asked with a confused look on his face, while McGee stood staring at me as though I had gone totally crazy.

"No," I repeated. "No. Saleem Ulman is still out there and he needs to be stopped before one more person dies."

"Make your case," Gibbs accepted.

And I went to work, with the help of Abby and McGee to find a manifest for the Damocles and past manifests to the Damocles and other shipments that stemmed to going that way. And, there it was. There was one constant on all manifests that told us what Saleem was getting and where it was going.

We presented the case, together, as a team, because it was a team effort to find this information. Then, I met with Vance. But, he said no.

"This is a military act on foreign soil," Vance said. "There's no proof that he's even there and I can't go off the assumption that he needs his daily Caf-Pow. The circumstances just aren't right."

I turned off the monitor and walked out of his office, angrily. "DiNozzo," Gibbs called after me urgently, but I ignored him, needing time to process the fact that I wasn't going after Ziva at all, even after all the hard work that the team and I put in. "Tony!" I turned, still furious. If she wasn't dead yet, she would be before the circumstances were right. "That's it?" Gibbs asked.

"Is there more? Yes, that's it," I hissed. "The circumstances aren't right, you heard him."

"So?" Gibbs asked. "We change the circumstances. Put a couple of agents on the ground. Eyes on the target. Strictly investigational. So, any volunteers for the mission?"

My heart rose. The boss was a genius.

"Yea, me," I said.

"And McGee," Gibbs added sternly. "Go figure out your quiet plan and bring it to me."

And I did. McGee and I were going to Somalia to be eyes on the target, to investigate Saleem Ulman, while Gibbs talked this out with Vance in a way that would appeal to the Director as a Director of a major agency.

We were going to Somalia and would need to check in with Dubai. But, we wouldn't be able to. Instead we would get ourselves captured. In that scenario, Dubai would contact the squad in the Mediterranean, and Gibbs. They would come to us and rescue us. But I had to be careful when talking to Saleem Ulman. I would need to give him the information he wanted in a very specific order, so he didn't lose his cool and didn't figure me out. McGee agreed that me doing the talking was a better option. At least he trusted that my mind was entirely in this without any proof of that. Gibbs knew I could handle this.

The mission was approved that day and Gibbs, McGee, and I spent the rest of our time preparing ourselves for this, with Abby and Ducky's help. The next morning, we flew out of Washington and headed for Dubai on a long and silent flight, considering the gravity of our mission and the danger of it. And, then it started and there was absolutely no stopping it, although McGee was already second guessing himself. And that was another reason why I was leading this mission, aside from the emotions it took to realize that Ziva could be dead or captive be this man. Those emotions were reason enough to keep going.


	15. The Plan

**Chapter 15**

**The Plan**

Ziva notices a change in her routine and then her fate as she sees Tony for the first time in four months, sitting tied to a chair in front of her.

Characters: Saleem, McGee, Tony, and Ziva

_Ziva's POV_

I was moved back to my smaller room four days ago, after telling Saleem what I would about Mossad and still nothing about NCIS. I had not seen him at all in those four days, but I was under a sedative every time nobody was directly supervising me, because I had made an escape attempt, taking out four more of his number and getting as far as the fences, but not quite to the gates.

Even though I was sedated, I was still quite aware of everything going on around me, and more than aware of the fact that I still had a knife if I needed it. Although I wasn't entirely sure how Saleem had missed the knife in his assaults on me. But, in that respect, I was healing a little. At least, I was no longer in pain in that area, just a little uncomfortable.

It was late afternoon when I heard a disturbance in the camp. There were shouts being exchanged in Arabic and I strained my ears to hear them properly. They talked of men found in the abandoned village and coming in. Two white men, as best as I could hear, but I didn't get any other details because the sedative kicked in around then and everything was so hazy.

I tried hard to hear them when they came in, but I heard nothing from the two men or from Saleem. I listened hard all night and sacrificed my sleep.

It was earlier afternoon on the second day after their arrival that Saleem came into my room again. This time he put a sack over my face and seemed to be very angry. He dragged me by the arm with the broken collar bone, reminding me of the considerable amount of pain I had suppressed, although it could tell that it was healing some. The sedative was wearing off at that point and the feel of his hands on me, made me flinch. I still remembered how hurtful those hands could be.

I was half-dragged, half-led into another room. I guessed it was the initial interrogation room based on the direction we went in, but I didn't know for sure since I couldn't see anything. I was set in a chair, facing the wrong direction, and then he spoke.

"There is talk in town of two missing NCIS agents," Saleem said and my heart nearly stopped as he said these words; I could think of only one person on one specific team who would be trying to find me in Somalia. "One of you will tell me the names and locations of all troops in the area, and the other will die."

The bag was removed roughly from my head and I was met with Tony's green eyes and they were a spectacular and comforting sight, although I was sure my face couldn't quite show that, considering the sedatives and the pain I was feeling. My head had a difficult time comprehending those green eyes and why they hid the fact that Tony was bubbling with emotions at the sight of me. My brain felt hazy and I was fighting to make it work properly.

"I will give you two a moment to decide who lives and who dies," Saleem said before leaving the interrogation room.

Tony smirked at me and said, "Well, how was your summer?"

Always joking, I thought. But it was good to hear it. I wanted to smile and I was fighting as hard as I could against the sedatives. I blinked a couple of times.

"It had to be you," I whispered and nodded my head at him.

"You're welcome," he said nodding his head in return. "So are you glad to see me?"

Yes, I wanted to shout at him. But, I had been here a long time and knew what it was like here, and he was obviously captive himself. "You should not have come," I said shaking my head at him fighting all the different emotions and fighting to think clearly.

He looked confused. "Alright then, good catching up. I'll just be going, then," he said quietly and started to move.

"Tony," I complained and he stopped mid-action. "Yes, I am glad to see you," I added in a whisper somehow unable to keep that from him. "Are you two alright?"

"Just glad you're alive," McGee answered from behind me.

"You thought I was dead?" I asked Tony.

"Oh... oh yea," Tony said with wide eyes filled with pain.

"No he didn't, not really," McGee answered. "Rest of us did, though. Guess his gut's worth something, after all."

"Then, why are you here?" I asked over the top of McGee, not listening to his response.

He struggled for a moment, probably against the same truth serum that I fought for a couple of weeks. "Couldn't live without you... I guess," he said with as much of a shrug as he could muster up.

I smirked and tried to turn my face away from him, so he wouldn't see it. But then I met his eyes and saw the lingering pain from my absence.

"You should've left me alone," I whispered to him.

"Okay, tried, couldn't. Listen, you should know, I've taken some kind of truth serum, so if there's any questions you don't want to know the answers to, just don't ask," he said and I nodded. I knew about that truth serum well. Although it seemed to me that he was doing well with it and what was being spoken and how it was being said.

"Tony, you have to tell Saleem everything he wants to hear," I said to him. "Save yourself and McGee."

"That's not how it works," McGee muttered from behind me.

"How what works?" I asked, my eyes going wide, feeling strength surge through me as I realized there was more to this.

"The plan," Tony whispered, some of the twinkle in his eye returning to him.

"You have an escape plan?" I asked him curiously.

He winked and I smiled a little. "Tony, he has thirty men, heavily armed. He has anti-tank and anti-aircraft weapons. What do you have?"

"Well that's where things get a little tricky," he said to me and explained his plan and how it was formed.

"Wait," I said, interrupting him quietly, "you got captured on purpose?"

He nodded and there was a moment of silence, where our eyes did all of the arguing. And then, miraculously, understanding came to me. It was like neither Tony or I had missed a beat in our time of separation from each other. "This plan... it would involve being rescued."

"Yes, it would," he said quietly to me and then finished telling me the plan as commotion built up outside.

"Can you reach my ankle?" I asked him, throwing my right foot up on his chair and sliding it as far out as I could. He smirked and pulled the knife from it. I slid off the chair and quickly took it from him and sat back down, just as the door opened.

"Rule nine," he smiled as his eyes met with Saleem's and I slipped the knife between my knees to where my wrists fell and started to slowly saw at the ropes there. "Oh, hey, Saleem," Tony greeted, getting a distraction going for me, giving me as much time as he could, seeing that I was forming a plan of my own. There was no time to share this with McGee and Tony only hoped he was reading it right.

"We're moving out. We're not taking prisoners," he said.

"Well, okay, it was nice talking with you," Tony said as Saleem checked the window and came back.

"No, you're not done yet," Saleem said as he grabbed my hair. I couldn't help the flinch and gasp at the contact with him and Tony read right into it and his eyes became very angry with all that he guessed would cause this reaction from me.

"Kill me, you'll need the Americans for leverage," I said quickly.

"I do not make bargains," Saleem said firmly.

"Do you make pizza?" Tony asked quietly.


End file.
